


Equilibrium

by euphorbic



Series: Angel of Cities [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Gratuitous Imagery, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Pseudoscience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphorbic/pseuds/euphorbic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a post-apocalyptic timeline, controversial figures called Angels, or Powers, enforce whatever work or law their sentient city-states command. Charles is a well-known and respected telepath and researcher in Bashan, the city in which the temporal Power, Erik, has recently been manifested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> I started this series almost by accident over at Tumblr as a sort of stress release. Angel of Cities doesn't adhere to chronological order and I believe it reads better in the order it was written. However, I will make a chronological list of the chapters available in the future.

_Equilibrium_

It is nearly midnight in their city-state and the rain has finally ceased. They’ve been curled up on the floor watching biology documentaries. Erik finds them endlessly fascinating, though Charles is certain he’s mainly listening to the background music. Erik has a hard time relating with screens; often seeing only the movement of shapes and colors rather than comprehending the figures they represent.

Charles runs a hand through Erik’s hair. The tendrils always move as if they are permanently underwater; like slow-moving flames. His fingers disturb the unseen current that moves across and through Erik’s skin.

Turning under Charles’ fingers, Erik gathers his legs beneath him to stand. “I need to reassert balance. I’m falling out of attunement.”

“Don’t keep her waiting.” Charles responds gently, standing up with his partner. “You can attune with me when you’re finished.”

Erik’s smile is there in the crinkle of his eyes. He walks, shirtless and barefoot, to the balcony’s sliding glass doors, and pushes them aside. A blast of chill wind bypasses Erik’s lanky form and enters the spacious suite. Charles frowns at that, but pushes through the chill to follow Erik.

The cold does not bring gooseflesh to Erik’s skin the way it does Charles’. His flat nipples do not harden with it. He is unaffected by the cold of heights or spring storms. He grabs the balcony’s rail and vaults atop, balancing against the wind on the balls of his feet. Charles has yet to get used to the sight, no matter how many times he sees it.

Erik turns to face Charles like he always does. He says what he always says. “I’ll only be gone a moment.”

Charles nods the way he always nods and takes in the sight of pale skin limned in slick grey cityscape. The moon remains hidden by low-flying clouds. It may yet rain once again. What light there is comes muted through the clouds, from the warning lights atop the high rises, and from the city’s vast arteries. 

Their suite is within the heart of Bashan which is not necessarily found within the geographic center. The heart of the city lays at the confluences of its lives and energy, whether they move or breathe or not.

Despite the monotonous shades of grey that are the city at night, Charles can see hints of color at the corners of his vision. It is a near constant, but when Erik closes his eyes and opens himself to the city, the colors intensify.

When Charles closes his eyes, he can see saturate color. He can see Erik. He can see the swarm.

Today the swarm is alive and bubbling endlessly up from the abyss. There is no end to Below or to Above, but the walls are in sight. It is unlike the city which only sprawls endlessly across and beneath one surface.

Charles tries to follow the individual flight of just one of the jeweled members of the swarm. It is like trying to catch sight of just one bubble in a champagne glass. The effort is expended time and again. One, three, eleven... he follows them with his closed eyes, until they pass near Erik and then his attention is diverted from the iridescent wings, the gilt legs, the split jewels of carapace.

Erik’s eyes are also closed, but he does not see Charles. He hangs amidst the swarm. He is suspended betwixt the Above and the Below, held by his will as he seeks Equilibrium with the city’s life force. His arms are widespread, shoulders unlocked, chest open, palms flat, fingers apart, and facing Charles. His body looks longer than normal with his chin tilted up, baring and lengthening the line of his throat.

What he can see of Erik’s hair is moving sinuously but also in stutters like time-lapsed film. His auburn lashes flutter as his eyes move behind somnolent lids. 

Charles knows Equilibrium has been met when Erik’s head rolls from left to right, chin briefly touching the dip of his clavicle. His shoulders rotate and his arms bend, as his hands reach in separate arcs; behind his body and then slowly scooping forward, hands cupped as if he is gathering ether.

When his strong hands reach chest height, they close into fists. His head falls slowly forward, his knees tuck up slowly until he is a tight ball. His brow is touching his knees, his fists pressed to either side of his thighs.

This is when Charles opens his eyes, for what comes next is too much for his sight to witness without temporary blindness.

There, on the balcony, high above the city streets, close to the low-flying clouds, Erik is looking at him, his distant smile less expressive than the devotion in his quicksilver eyes. He looks normal in his low slung sleep pants and the silver traceries of scars from achievements and battle.

His long-fingered hands come forward and grasp Charles’ in a soft, yet firm, grip. As ever, Erik radiates excessive heat after Equilibrium, his grip is nearly uncomfortable around Charles’ sky-chilled fingers. He does not let go, rather he leans in for a kiss.

There is a slight spark when their lips touch; Erik’s mouth tastes like rain and ozone. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Angel of Cities](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10458165) by [sevendeadlyfun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevendeadlyfun/pseuds/sevendeadlyfun)




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